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Nocturnal
Merchant

146 POSTS
last seen Jun 6, 2015 17:11:31 GMT -5

Mix long periods of egotistical indulgence with occasional doses of nostalgia for best results.

Writing dump (PLEASE FEEDBACK?) Jul 8, 2011 22:05:26 GMT -5

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Post by Nocturnal on Jul 8, 2011 22:05:26 GMT -5

I love the name Aradia, so therefore my character will be named Aradia. Muahaha. I may add more later, though I'm not sure.

Aradia slipped through the forest silently, a bow hung loosely over her left shoulder. A wordless companion stood perched on her right, waiting for a the slightest movement in the undergrowth to take off. The teenager was dressed in tight fitting black clothing, made of a light, shiny material she had acquired off of an odd haggler in the Market Square. Her face was placid, plain as could be, as a crow cawed suspiciously from a branch above her. They were supposed to be ill omens, but what did she believe of those? Nothing, that's what. Aradia was on her guard- you never knew what kind of person would live in the woods- or come after her. Even though she was confident in her ability to defend herself, it'd be impossible if they sneaked up on her, and ambushed her. Aradia wouldn't put it past the filthy scoundrels.

She traced the familiar pattern so lovingly etched into the shaft of her favorite arrow, worn down by many similar movements. Perhaps she would use this one for the Tournament, though it might not fly straight. To prove the point to herself, she removed her bow from her shoulder, and shot a tree, ten feet away. It landed too high, above her mark. She couldn't use it for the Tournament- she had to win. Everything- and everyone- were counting on the young heiress. If she won, her family would be pulled out of the looming debt they were sinking into so quickly. Her father, the gambler had started all this, and it was up to her now to fix it. Trotting on silent feet up to her arrow, she lurched it out of the tree. She looked at it one last time, with her disconcerting orange eyes, and returned it to the quiver.

Her companion let out a warning screech, that only a hawk can make. It was high pitched and shrill, inspiring fear automatically. She had trained Saeri well. While she pondered this fact, a figure burst through one of the dark leafed bushes that surrounded her path. It was a well traveled one too, Aradia had seen many passerby's on her journey so far. The indistinct person was like her, garbed in black. Probably to blend in better, rather than stick out. At court, the ladies and lords would be wearing merry, bright colors, while only the most daring went for black. That's Aradia described in one word- daring.

He, for it appeared to be male, was alone. At least no other bandits jumped out at her. They thought she was weak, because she was a girl. Typical, typical fools. She'd show them, just like she had showed everyone else that had challenged her before. Sometimes old habits are hard to break though, because she felt that she needed to introduce herself before she whipped his butt. Would it be the courtly one? Or perhaps a more casual. She could probably fool him better if he thought she was a spoiled, obnoxious princess who wanted everything done for her, and then, when he got off guard- Twang! He wouldn't have time to notice she'd shot him before he was dead. A cocky half smile replaced the old look on her face. One on one- and she would win.

"I am Aradia III- Of the house of Raevin. May I be so cordial as to inquire your name?"

If she had a fan, she would have waved it, the very essence of femininity. She could see he was become more relaxed. Just a few more seconds and she'd have him. Her thin, spidery finger inched towards the weapon slung diagonally across her back. Hopefully, from his view, he couldn't see it. He was smoothing his straw blond hair out of his eyes, were it flopped as if he hadn't had the time, or bother to brush it. It was arranged in a careful disarray, making him both charming and repellent at the same time. His sky blue eyes locked with hers, and genuine surprise registered on his face when he noticed their autumn color. Aradia had to hold in a sigh- everyone was amazed at her eye color so much, they didn't notice the rest of her. Now was her chance.

Her arm whipped up like a viper, straight towards where she felt the almost unnoticeable weight of her bow against her back. As she positioned an arrow aimed at the boy's throat, which she noted was no older than her, she felt a grubby hand on her shoulder. A voice, that smelled strongly like liquor, whispered something unintelligible into her ear. Absolutely disgusting. He repeated it, a little more clearly this time, so that Aradia could make out a few odd words. Suddenly, he clamped his hand that much harder on her shoulder, since she was disregarding him, as he was obviously drunk.

"Listen here sweetheart, you're coming with me."

She kicked and thrashed wildly, trying to find purchase on the rugged clothing of the middle aged man holding her. She cursed herself all the while- they had left such a simple trap, and she had fell right into it. Maybe Aradia was more naive than she thought after all. His rough hands muffled her scream as they moved up to cover her mouth. She was scared now, honestly scared as to where these thugs would take her. Were they thieves? Or...Worse? Her pumpkin colored eyes widened as the youth mouthed, "I'm sorry." Then, the world went black for her- only a steady, throbbing pain on the side of her head was clear in the dark haze that filled her world.

Last Edit: Jul 13, 2011 3:19:56 GMT -5 by Nocturnal

Nocturnal
Merchant

146 POSTS
last seen Jun 6, 2015 17:11:31 GMT -5

Mix long periods of egotistical indulgence with occasional doses of nostalgia for best results.

Writing dump (PLEASE FEEDBACK?) Jul 10, 2011 2:31:05 GMT -5

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Post by Nocturnal on Jul 10, 2011 2:31:05 GMT -5

Ow. Was the first word that came to mind when Aradia awoke, with her eyes still closed and voices swirling around her. Where am I? She thought groggily, trying to remember how she got there, and where she was headed. The Tournament...She was going to be late! It started in only a weeks time, and how was she going to get there? Maybe she was there already, and she didn't know it. That'd be lucky. A clearer voice than the rest broke through the haze that surrounded her, keeping her eyes from opening. Then again, doing that was the last thing on her list of priorities, as Aradia was struggling to stay awake under the intense pressure of sleep that threatened to overwhelm her at any moment.

Wait. She had been captured, hadn't she? The stream of thoughts came with a feeling of well being. At least she knew where she was now, though the feeling was probably a bad sign. She'd read somewhere that people feel warm and fuzzy right before they die. How could she have been so stupid as to let them trap her? Her, mistress of the forest, the hunter. She thought she had know bandit's tricks, and that the woods were her territory, but noooo, these common little thieves thought they knew better than her. A nasal little voice wormed itself into her head, whispering, "They captured you, didn't they?" And it was true. They had gotten the best of her, but Aradia would never admit it openly. She would have grit her teeth if she had the strength.

"Hey, I think she's awake."

A rough hand pulled open Aradias' eyelid, to reveal glowering orange eyes shooting daggers in his direction. The saying, if looks could kill, came to mind as she watched it drop the covering, leaving her eye open to look around the room. With monstrous effort, she heaved open her other eye, getting the full intake of where she was. The grime was piled up so high, she thought it might collapse and bury them all, including her. What a ignoble way to go- death by garbage. They seemed to be in a circular room, with only the crudest furniture adorning it's spiraled surfaces. Though somewhat simple, she could tell that the person making them knew what they were doing. The furniture, in fact, was the only clean thing in the room. The rest was smeared with dirt, dust, and other things that she would rather not identify. It would be just terrible if she threw up all over her kidnappers, wouldn't it? No, that wouldn't do at all.

A slight smirk made it's way across her lips, as she watched the three men in the room with narrowed eyes. One was tall, a youth. Messy blond hair tumbled into his clear blue eyes, arranged in a way you'd think he planned. He looked about twenty or so, and was handsome, without a doubt. Adding to the effect that he hadn't washed in days, was his clothes. They were patched over old patches, more rags than robes. He was the one who tricked her, part of the twosome that had brought her to such a disgusting environment. Next to him stood a stout man with a beard that trailed along the floor, graying with age. He was probably a dwarf. From what she had heard, they took great pride in their beards, and it was the worst punishment off all to have it cut. Thin black hair grew out of his overly large ears, curling at the ends. She'd never heard of dwarfs having big ears, but she had never payed attention in the History of Magic classes anyways.

The third man stood in a corner, his back against the curving wall. He was of medium height, though had quite a belly reaching out from his thick leather belt. His shirt came up to about his belly button, a once-white muscle shirt that had seen too many platters of food. He stared blackly out at the other two, conversing in muted tones. His most striking feature was his eyes, as were mine. His were a deep, midnight blue that seemed to reflect his soul. Just from looking at them you could tell that if he wanted to, he could kill you in a single stroke of his dagger. Aradia was sure he had one on him, perhaps in one of his riding boots, or up his pant leg. It had to be somewhere- she knew his type. The man was harboring a bottle of something frothy, that looked distinctly like beer. Aradia remembered the smell of liquor on the man who grabbed hers' breath, and marked him down as the one who did that. THe dwarf was the only one she hadn't seen at the scene of the crime. Perhaps he had come in afterward for looting.

Loot? What had she had with her? She had given away the night black mare her father had given her at an in, and never carried any jewelry on her. All she had had, was...Nia. Great Rais what had they done with her? She cast her eyes around the room, hoping to see a cage, a cell, something that her companion could be held in. She was worth quite a bit, as she had the mark of a Royal Hawk. A queen among queens. The emblem had been tatooed onto the underside of her wing, a dragon being chased by a bird. All Aradia could hope for is that she had flown off to a safe distance when her master had been compromised. That was what she had been trained to do, anyways. If her nerves held strong, Nia would be somewhere closebye, waiting for Aradia to make her escape. Don't worry, I'll be there as soon as I can.

Last Edit: Jul 10, 2011 2:46:22 GMT -5 by Nocturnal

Nocturnal
Merchant

146 POSTS
last seen Jun 6, 2015 17:11:31 GMT -5

Mix long periods of egotistical indulgence with occasional doses of nostalgia for best results.

Writing dump (PLEASE FEEDBACK?) Jul 13, 2011 3:18:23 GMT -5

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Post by Nocturnal on Jul 13, 2011 3:18:23 GMT -5

Different story now! Maybe I'll finish that one later.

The dark city streets still ran with rats as Eon made his way along the gutter line. He closed his nose against the ghastly smell emerging from it, that blanketed itself over everything these days. Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. Ever since the plague set in, all people could think about was that blasted disease.

He ran down the street, covering his curly brown hair with a thin hand. Mari was sick. That was all he could think about in the descending darkness. His little sister had the plague. From what he had heard, it was a ghastly disease that killed all but the strongest. Somehow, he managed to doubt that she qualified as one of those- she was always the one who needed a shoulder to cry on, a hug. He needed to see her.

The door burst open, to show a sodden Eon. still dripping from the oncoming thunderstorm that raged through the streets. It was violent and wet outside, but he would much rather be out there than in the cold, empty house that shivered in the wind. He cocked his head to the side, hearing coughing coming from a distant room. Mari…He sprinted through the door, not even bothering to throw off his cloak or shoes.

Mother would have killed him if she had seen him as he dashed through the two rooms to where his sickly sister lay on her threadbare bead spread, ashen faced. He had left footprints all over the carefully maintained house. She had always loved order, so Eon had taken over cleaning duty after...She departed. The broom lay crooked by the door, worn handle resting on the frame.

Mari blinked open her eyes as he approached. She had always been so sensitive to people moving. Perhaps her other senses had been heightened when she had lost her sight. That would make sense, wouldn't it? Natures' way of compensating people, or so it seemed. Eon squinted through the dim light that trickled from a single candle lit in the center of the room. It was down so low, because for one, they couldn't really afford much more, and she couldn't see anyway, so why waste money?

That was the way Eon thought. Economically, conservatively. For instance, the room was bare of any decoration, because she wouldn't care, as she couldn't appreciate its' real beauty. Mother would have agreed with it, or at least he thought so. That was all he could do, wasn't it? She was gone, and maybe Mari too soon. His dismal train of thought was interupted by a small, trembling voice from his sisters corner of the room.

"W-Who's there?"

Her voice subsided suddenly, into a fierce fit of coughing. Her tiny frame was racked with spasms as she wheezed, struggling for air. Something came up out of her mouth, color unidentifiable, but it was definitely liquid. Eons' eyes widened as he realized that it might be blood. It was probably blood. Oh god no, he was too late. Eon had to be there with her. She had to get better, he thought fiercely.

"It's me, Eon."

He saw her relax noticeably in her bed, though still the occasional weak cough sounded from her. He slipped towards Mari, his steps light as a cloud. She shifted her body towards him, as much as the small spread would allow at least. Instinctively, she knew where the edge of the bed was, and almost never fell off. Of all times to get the plague, it had to be when she was finally beginning to cope with her blindness.

"Eon...Will I die?"

Her voice cracked at the end of the sentence, a clear indicator that she was terrified of it. Who wouldn't be? If it were Eon, well, who knows what he might do? But it wasn't him, and it was Mari. She was dying. And there was nothing he could do, but she didn't know that. If he gave her hope, maybe, just maybe, she could be one of the few survivors. Mari the survivor. He liked the sound of that.

"No, no you won't Mari. I promise."

Another empty promise in his life. How many were there now? He had told his Mother that he would take care of Mari, and look how he was doing with that? He had promised his teachers that he'd try hard and get a good job. Rat catcher? It was peasants work, but it was all he could get. Maybe they were peasants then, anyway, so it didn't matter.

His voice sounded calm, like everything was okay, when things could not be farther from it. This was the role he played- protective older brother, then head of the household, and finally undertaker. He wasn't lying, at least he hoped, but the chances of her living were bleak. And just after recovering from pneumonia...It left her wide open for anything that wanted to infect her.